


Nice to Meet You, Sharp Shooter

by mysterioustrumpet



Series: The Robber and Sharp Shooter [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Disaster Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hero Lance, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Villain Keith, also why did i make lance tend to keith's wounds in every chapter, catch me out here staring at the screen waiting for the words to appear :'))), especially the foreshadowing hehe, flustered lance is awesome but flustered keith is HGNGHGNGHDFLGH, good thing i like writing so much amiright, heroes & villains au, hm, is it still called foreshadowing if the audience knows that keith is the robber?, its cuz i started school again so i barely have time to work on shit, lots of writers block on this one, no that's dramatic irony, something to think about, superhero au, this chapter took me an ABSURDLY long time to finish, this one was fun though, you can tell i have a bias oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20940176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysterioustrumpet/pseuds/mysterioustrumpet
Summary: A series of encounters between Keith and Lance, and The Robber and Sharp Shooter. Except neither of them knows the other's true identity. Cue angst.





	Nice to Meet You, Sharp Shooter

**Author's Note:**

> me, yelling at myself: MAKE KEITH BLUSH YOU COWARD

** _Six Months Ago_ **

Right hook. Dodge. Jump. Sideswipe. Pain. _ So much _ pain. Lance had been doing this job for far too long to forget the pain that comes with fighting villains. And this one was no different. A blur rushed towards Lance’s head and he ducked at the last second. He used his momentum to sink a punch into the villain’s gut, and satisfaction warmed him as his opponent crumpled to the ground. Breathing heavily, Lance reached for his power-suppressing handcuffs before The Robber could geta way. Lance would arrest him this time. _ This time for sure. _

But The Robber was too fast. Lance could see his eyes narrowing through the mask that covered the villain’s face and, in a flash of glowing blue light, The Robber had vanished. Again.

“Ugh!” Lance yelled. “Damnit!”

“Lance, what’s going?” Pidge’s voice was loud and demanding through the earpiece.

Lance removed his helmet with rough movements, ire sparking in his gut. “He got away.”

He heard Pidge click their tongue against their front teeth. “Damn. Alright, let’s head back to the precinct, then.”

With heavy steps, Lance headed back to the van so he could make a report to his boss about how he’d let a wanted villain escape for the millionth time. The rational part of him knew Shiro would be understanding, and it wasn’t like Lance was failing his other missions. It was just this one villain that frustrated him every time. Sometimes he wished The Robber would just plop himself on Lance’s doorstep and save them both the trouble. Pft. Like _ that _ would ever happen.

* * *

“Yeah, Shiro’s gonna’ have us come in tomorrow for our monthly revisions instead of Friday,” Lance explained. He held the door open for someone on their way out of the Starbucks, earning a polite smile.

“Why not on Friday?” Hunk asked. Lance could hear him shuffling through papers, the phone likely on speaker at his desk.

“He said something about spending time with his fiance? I dunno’, I wasn’t paying attention to that part.”

Hunk laughed. “Alright, we’ll have to reschedule our game night then.”

Lance kept his eyes on the menu as he walked further in the shop so he could get in line. Should he have his usual today? Or maybe something different? His reply to Hunk was cut off when he crashed into someone, sending him staggering back and rubbing his forehead.

“Hey, watch where . . .” Lance’s words fell away. Because, uh. _ Woah _ . Before him stood the most good-looking man Lance had probably ever seen, and then some. A lean, fit body, elegant slanting eyes, and shoulder-length black hair that framed his face perfectly. Except, at a second glance, Lance realized that the guy’s hair seemed to be . . . a mullet? _ Who wears a mullet these days? _But for some reason it looked good on him. Like, a little too good. Who was this guy?

Then Lance realized that, due to their collision, the beautiful stranger’s coffee had slipped out of his hand and onto the floor. Mortification painted Lance’s face red. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you burned anywhere?”

The guy paused for a moment before shaking his head with a slight smirk. “No, I’m fine. But weren’t you just about to yell at me for not watching where I was going? What changed?”

“U-um, uh, b―well, uh,” Lance stammered. Wow, just that hint of a smile had rendered Lance useless. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Uh, nothing! Well, I mean, I saw the spilled coffee and figured that it must have been my fault, haha. Hold on, I’ll get you another one.”

Lance reached for his wallet and moved to step around the stranger, but jumped a bit when an onslaught of tingles and chills flooded over him. All because Mullet-Head placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “No, don’t worry about it. I also wasn’t looking.”

Lance shook his head, turning to face Mullet completely. “I insist. I didn’t lose anything, but you lost your coffee. How can you have a good day without it?”

Mullet’s gaze took in Lance, flicking down and up so quickly that Lance almost missed it. Then heat rose to Lance’s cheeks when a knowing grin tugged on the corner of Mullet’s mouth. “I think I’m having a pretty good day already, but I’ll take you up on that.”

_ Asldhgskldsgf. _ “Um, o-okay. What did you order?” The two of them moved to the counter, where Mullet tacked his order on after Lance’s, who gladly paid for both. He couldn’t stop fidgeting the entire time, too aware of how little space there was between them and too aware of how hard his heart was beating. Needing to get rid of that energy somehow, he tapped out a quick text to Hunk to explain the dropped call. _ Why am I getting so worked up? _

The barista called his name and Lance went up to retrieve the drinks, handing Mullet his with a wide grin. “Here you go, um . . .”

“Keith. Keith Kogane,” he replied. He took the cup from Lance, letting his fingers linger against Lance’s for a second. “And your name’s Lance?”

Lance nodded, desperately trying to calm his racing heart. “Yep. Lance McClain.”

“Nice to meet you, Lance McClain. Thanks for the coffee and, um, I guess I’ll see you around some time,” Keith replied, giving Lance a smile.

Lance blinked. “Yeah. yeah, sure.”

“See you later, then.” Keith headed for the door but, as he was about to leave, he glanced back at Lance and gave him a wink. Lance could feel the steam coming off of his face, and all he could do was give Keith a small wave in return. Then, he was gone.

“Oh my god,” Lance whispered to himself. Did that really just happen? Like, did that _ actually _ just happen? Who the hell _ was _ that guy? Why had Lance never seen him before? Sure, their city was fairly big, but Lance had been coming to this Starbucks for a long time, and he knew a lot of the other faces by now. Well, at least he’d _ thought _ he had.

Lance shook his head to clear his thoughts. No time to think about gorgeous guys when he had to be on his way to work. Besides, he’d probably never see that guy again. But he couldn’t help holding out the slightest bit of hope that he would.

* * *

“Damnit, he’s getting away!” Lance skidded around the corner, forcing himself into a sprint to try and catch his favorite bad guy. The industrial maze they were in meant Lance couldn’t use his paralyzer without losing sight of the villain. Too many corners to round, too many places to hide out of Lance’s line of vision. He pumped his arms and legs harder as The Robber jumped up a six-foot concrete wall to vault himself over to the other side. Lance, thankful for his long legs, mimicked the maneuver. When he landed he drew his weapon, an idea forming in his head that he had to try. 

He continued running after The Robber but let his mind focus on changing his weapon. The pistol glowed white as it morphed and shifted in his hand, becoming a shapeless blob before hardening into the curved object Lance had in mind. He grinned to himself. This would work. Before The Robber rounded another corner, Lance locked his sight on him and set the flag in his mind. The corner wallowed the villain, Lance launched the boomerang around the bend, and a second later a yell of pain met Lance’s ears.

“Yes!” Lance cheered. He sped up around the turn to see The Robber on the ground clutching his left leg, Lance’s impromptu boomerang a few feet away. “I’ve got you now, Robber!”

But, of course, Lance _ didn’t _ have The Robber. The masked man sprang to his feet, his stance favoring his injured leg, and hurled something towards Lance. Lance only had a second to comprehend what was happening before a weighted net unfurled in the air and landed on top of him, bringing him to the ground. With Lance’s incoherent curing trailing behind him, The Robber whisked himself away in his usual burst of blue light.

“Fuck fuckity frickin’ heck!” Lance swore.

“Lemme’ guess. You didn’t catch him?”

“No, I didn’t catch him, Pidge!” Lance yelled. “Fucking fuck!”

Pidge sighed. “How many times is that now, Hunk?”

“Thirteen for The Robber, zero for Lance.”

“Thanks, Hunk,” Lance deadpanned. He withdrew his dagger and started cutting into the surprisingly thick rope, which on closer inspection turned out to be made of elastic, much to Lance’s aggravation. “From now on all mentions of The Robber are illegal. Don’t you dare mention him to me or I will lose my shit.”

“But you just mentioned him?” Hunk said.

Lance groaned and flopped on the ground. “I’m losing my shit now. Yep. It’s happening.”

Pidge let out a loud laugh. “Alright, Sharp Shooter. Let’s get back to the precinct, shall we?”

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m losing my shit, please. This is me time.”

* * *

_ I’m being ridiculous _. But Lance couldn’t help checking his reflection in his rear view mirror for the fifth (?) time. He knew he should just head into the coffee shop already, since he didn’t want to be late for work, but was his hair okay? How about his skin? Ugh, he could see a pimple coming up, probably ‘cuz of all the stress he’d had the past few days. With new villains popping up and the added weight of failing to catch The Robber, it was a wonder Lance hadn’t gone bald yet. With a resigned sigh, Lance got out of his car and made his way to the Starbucks.

As soon as he entered, he scanned the crowd to see if he could spot that mullet he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind. His shoulders drooped slightly when he realized Mullet wasn’t there. Then he chastised himself for getting disappointed. What had he expected, a marriage proposal? Yeah, right. They’d met one time. So what if Keith had checked him out? So what if Keith had winked at Lance as he’d left the shop? The odds of running into him again were a million to one.

After the cashier his order, Lance took a seat at the bar that faced the barista’s work station, where he scrolled through his phone without really paying attention. The few minutes it took for the barista to make his order passed by in an instant, but when Lance walked over to pick up his drink he found it gone. Had someone taken his coffee?

“Looking for something?” a voice behind him asked.

Lance’s stomach instantly bunched into nerves as he turned to take in Keith Kogane, who was somehow more attractive than the last time Lance had seen him. Was that even possible? Kicking himself into motion, Lance moved towards Keith with a lopsided grin on his face. “I was wondering who stole my coffee.”

Keith handed the cup with a wink. “Well, you caught me. I was hoping to see you again, Lance McClain.”

Lance arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And why’s that, Keith Kogane?”

The smirk that tugged at Keith’s mouth had Lance’s heart dipping into his stomach. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me, it isn’t,” Lance replied with a smirk of his own. _ Two can play at this game, Kogane. _

But then Keith shifted so he was standing closer, his face little more than a foot shy of Lance’s, and Lance’s smile disappeared. Why was it suddenly so hot in the coffee shop? Why couldn’t Lance take his eyes off of Keith’s face? And why, for a split second, did Keith’s proximity feel so familiar?

“I was _ hoping _ to see you again,” Keith repeated. His low, breathy voice sent a wave of goosebumps across Lance’s skin. Crap, what could he say to that? What _ should _ he say to that? It was seriously way too hot in this shop. Didn’t they have AC or something?

Lance swallowed in the hopes of buying himself time. “Um, w-well―” The beep from his watch cut him off, and Lance looked down to see that he would be late for work if he didn’t leave now. He looked back up and gave Keith a sheepish grin as he started moving towards the door. “Well, the thing is, I have to go now.”

Keith chuckled. “That’s okay. If you feel like meeting up sometime, you should text me.”

Lance paused with his hand on the door handle. “Text you?”

Keith just raised his coffee cup and gave Lance a pointed tip of his head. “Good luck at work today, Lance McClain.”

He turned and walked to the other entrance. As he did, Lance noticed he was favoring his left leg, a slight limp in his step. Lance frowned. Had something happened to Keith recently? Maybe a fight? Then Keith’s words fully sank in and Lance took a good look at his coffee. He couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at his mouth, rounding his cheeks and covering his face with a blush. On his way back to his car, Lance added the number to his phone, still smiling as he drove off to work.

* * *

Lance giggled to himself as he read the message before tapping out a witty reply. When Keith responded with a funny reaction image, Lance had to stifle his laughter.

“Who are you texting?” Pidge nudged Lance’s leg with their foot. “And why do you keep laughing?” Them and Hunk were over at Lance’s for an impromptu work session, with Pidge and Lance lounging on the sofa and Hunk sitting in the chair next to them. 

“Have you met someone?” Hunk asked, turning his head away from his laptop to give Lance a puppy-like look. “Who is it?”

The smile spread of Lance’s face before he could stop himself. “Oh, no one. Just this guy I met at Starbucks last week.”

Pidge scrambled to shift their seating position, clambering over Lance to try and see his phone. “Ooh, ooh! What’s his name? What does he look like? Have you gone on a date yet?”

“Hey, watch it!” Lance held his phone out of Pidge’s reach, his height in his favor. “It’s not that big of a deal. I just think he’s cute, and we’ve kinda been flirting, and I dunno’. It might go somewhere.”

Pidge sat back down with a pout. “Hmph. Fine. Don’t tell us about your mystery man, then. We’ll find out one way or another, anyway.”

Lance rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile. “Yeah, yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to meet my ‘mystery man’ for something that may or may not be a date.”

“Have fun!” Hunk said, at the same time Pidge said, “Don’t die!”

The car ride to Starbucks consisted of Lance talking himself in circles trying to tell himself he wasn’t nervous, asking himself why he _ would _ be nervous, then remembering what Keith looked like and how it felt to be around him, and the whole cycle would repeat itself. What would they talk about? Would anything happen? No, this was technically their first date, and Lance wasn’t typically a “make a move on the first date” kind of person. What made it more nerve wracking was the fact that Lance was starting to _ really _ like this guy. Maybe a little too much. No, _ definitely _ too much.

Lance arrived a few minutes early and went inside to sit down. Luckily the shop wasn’t too busy, so he was able to secure a table for the two of them. He’d look up whenever the doorbell would ring, but so far Keith had yet to arrive. Lance checked the last text message again. Keith hadn’t read it yet, so he was probably still driving or something. Lance shook his head. _ I need to stop obsessing! _

The doorbell rang again, and this time when Lance looked up his heart skipped a few beats. Keith’s black leather jacket looked _ criminally _ good on him, highlighting his shoulders and lean frame. A motorcycle helmet rested comfortably between his arm and hip, and for a second Lance had a ridiculous fantasy of holding on to Keith’s waist as he sat on the bike behind him. Lance shook his head again and stood up to go meet him.

“Hey, Keith! Good to―_ woah! _” Lance’s words were cut off at the sight of Keith sporting a rather intense black eye. 

“What happened?!” Lance quickened his steps until he was standing in front of Keith. He reached out and was about to place a hand on Keith’s face, but caught himself at the last second. Lance didn’t know Keith’s boundaries yet. “How come you have a black eye?”

Keith shrugged, averting his gaze. “I, uh, just got into a little accident.”

“Accident?” What kind of accident gave someone a black eye? “Well, whatever it is, we’re not having coffee right now.”

Keith blinked. Well, as best he could with one eye puffy and swollen. “Um, okay. What are we doing then?”

“We’re going back to my place so I can treat you,” Lance said. He took Keith’s hand in his own, ignoring the electricity that bolted through his fingers, and dragged Keith back to the parking lot. Keith grinned as Lance gave him the directions to his place.

When they reached his apartment, Lance wasted no time in getting Keith to sit on the couch while he retrieved an ice pack, anti-inflammatories, and put the kettle to boil. He took a seat next to Keith and handed him the pills along with a water bottle. After Keith swallowed them, Lance took a seat next to him and leaned forward to take a look at the shiner.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, leaning back a bit.

“Shush,” Lance said. “I’m a registered EMT, you know? I worked as one for a few years when I was younger.”

Keith chuckled. “Alright, doctor. I’ll leave it to you.”

Lance resumed his movement, moving closer to get a good look at Keith’s eye. The dark, purple-ish skin around the eye was inflamed, and had a slight bounce to it when Lance touched it. The white part of Keith’s eye seemed to be in good shape, with no broken blood vessels or alarming coloring. All in all it was just a black eye, similar to the ones Lance had seen many times as an EMT.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Keith whispered.

It was then that Lance realized just how close the two of them were. Lance could feel Keith’s breath against his face, the subtle movement of Keith’s shoulders as he inhaled and exhaled. Lance’s palm was still against Keith’s cheek, but he didn’t want to move away. He _ couldn’t _ move away. Lance could see all the little details in Keith's irises, like how they weren’t black like Lance had originally thought, but a dark gray with flecks of purple spattered across them.

“Beautiful,” Lance murmured. _ Shit, I just said that out loud. _ It had just slipped. But Lance had never seen eyes like that before.

Keith’s eyes darkened as his pupils dilated, and Lance felt himself getting sucked in. God, what was it about this person that could make Lance feel like he was in a trance? What was it about Keith that made the rest of the world disappear, that shaped time and space so that it only contained them? Keith’s eyes flitted over Lance’s face, lingering on his lips before making their way back up to meet his gaze. What expression did Lance have right now? He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

“Lance.” Keith’s raw voice sent shivers along Lance’s spine, and the need to kiss him shook Lance like an earthquake. 

Lance squeezed his eyes shut and, with a shuddering breath, moved away. “Um―,” he cleared his throat, “everything looks good. Uh, I mean, your eye should be fine. Just remember to keep ice on it for fifteen minutes every hour, and Ibuprofen should help the swelling come down.”

Keith’s expression was unreadable for a beat. Was he mad? Disappointed? Maybe even offended? But he just gave Lance his familiar smirk before standing up. “Got it. I’d better get home, then. I have some work to take care of.”

“R-right,” Lance replied, stifling his chagrin. He accompanied Keith to the door to open it for him and held out the ice pack and pill bottle. “I don’t know if you have these at home, but I have a ton of extras so, um, feel free.”

Keith reached for the items, but instead rested his hands around Lance’s. Lance’s inhale was sharp through his teeth. Keith’s smirk had disappeared, replaced by an intense expression that Lance couldn’t identify. When the ice pack started to sting his hand, Lance murmured, “Keith?”

Keith swallowed, desperation crossing his face for a split second before he whispered, “Fuck.” He stepped forward, took Lance’s face between his palms, and pressed their lips together.

Lance gasped at the sudden contact, dropping the objects so he could wrap his arms around Keith’s neck to bring him closer. The mullet that Lance had thought of so many times was soft in his fingers, and the lips Lance had dreamed about sent tremors all along Lance’s skin. Keith’s hands trembled as he dragged them down Lance’s sides, and Lance’s stomach clenched as their bodies pressed together. He wanted to be closer, he _ needed _ to be closer to Keith. The need burned low in his gut, spreading through him until it threatened to eclipse his thoughts. What was it about Keith that made Lance feel like he was on fire?

Lance gasped as they pulled away from each other. His lips were raw and tingled with the afterimage of the kiss. For a moment the two just stood there, their foreheads resting against one another and their noses touching. When Lance opened his eyes a fresh wave of chills rushed through at the sight of Keith’s expression. With his eyebrows pulled together, his cheeks flushed red, and his mouth parted as he caught his breath, Lance thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

“Why’d you kiss me?” Lance added with a chuckle, “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

Keith gave a smile of his own. “You said ‘feel free’. So I did.”

Lance leaned back as he laughed, his hands still linked at the soft nape of Keith’s neck. “Well, I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“I really do have to go, though,” Keith muttered, leaving their embrace and bending down to pick up the dropped first-aid supplies.

“Promise you won’t forget about your eye?” Lance asked, his eyes narrowing.

Keith smirked. “I think I’ll remember when I see myself in the mirror.”

“As long as you treat it one way or another, smartass.”

Keith chuckled. “Bye, Lance. I’ll see ya’ later.”

“See ya’,” Lance replied. After waving goodbye and closing the door, Lance’s legs gave out and he slumped against it until he reached the floor. He couldn’t stop the surge of heat to his face even if he wanted to. All he could do was cover his face with his hands as his cheeks began to hurt from smiling.

* * *

His ringtone woke him up. Lance jolted awake, forcing sticky eyes to stay open as he blindly reached for his phone. It skittered across the table and Lance swore. He stood up, reached over, and grabbed it, answering on the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Lance! The Robber’s left a new note!” Hunk exclaimed. “I texted you the address, and he should be there soon.”

Lance rubbed the blur out of his eyes and glanced at his watch. It was 10:00 already? Damn, he must’ve fallen asleep as he’d been filling out his reports. A yawn kept him from replying for a second. “Alright, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“You’d better! This is your chance for an arrest.”

“Right. Right, I’m on my way.”

Fortunately or not, Lance’d had a lot of experience getting ready in as short of an amount of time as possible, so he had no problem rushing to his bedroom to change into his hero costume. The costume consisted of a full black body suit with white and blue armor that he put on after. His helmet had a visor that he could tint black so his face was hidden, and his utility belt held the necessary tools for battle, capture, or rescue. Once he’d dressed himself (in record time, no less), Lance headed out the door and raced towards the address Hunk had texted him.

Lance wondered what The Robber would try and steal this time. One thing that irked Lance the most about The Robber was that he left notes. He left notes letting the heroes know about his next attempted theft, and it was up to the heroes (read: Lance) to try and stop him. The notes were always delivered to the precinct, and nobody knew where they came from as of yet. Dusting for fingerprints or trying to analyze the handwriting was useless, since the card type and font changed every time. Despite the flair for the dramatic and the overwhelming cry for attention, Lance couldn’t help but be intrigued. Why _ did _ The Robber always leave notes? 

The location this time was a historical art gallery and museum located on the edges of the city’s downtown area. Someone had already cordoned off the building, so all Lance had to do was show the police his hero ID and make his way over to where Hunk’s van was parked along the curb.

Hunk waved to Lance as the latter ran over. “Good, you’re here.”

“How much time do we have?” Lance asked.

Hunk handed Lance the note. “Five minutes.”

This note was printed instead of handwritten, with curling font and fancy patterns lining the edges of it. It looked more like a wedding invitation than a robbery notice. “‘The painting of Queen Allura will be disappeared at 10:30 tonight’.” He snorted. “He always has to make himself sound smart, huh? ‘Disappeared’? Just say ‘taken’ or ‘stolen’ like a regular villain!”

“Lance, you are totally not one to talk,” Hunk chuckled. “You show off your vocabulary all the time!”

“Only because it makes me look cool.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Guys, focus.” Pidge jumped down from the van with their laptop resting on their arm. “The Robber will be here any second now, and we need to be prepared.”

“Where’s the painting?” Lance asked.

Pidge showed him their laptop screen, pointing to a spot on the third floor of the six-story building. “It’s the main attraction in the art section, in the middle of the center room. It should be in a glass case, but that’s never stopped our friend before.”

“Right.” Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to focus. He would get The Robber for sure this time. He could _ feel _it. No more excuses, no more distractions. Just him and his prey. Something big was gonna’ happen tonight. “I’m heading up.”

The flights of stairs leading up to the third floor went by too quickly, with Lance’s focus choosing to slow down as soon as he set foot in front of the painting. His eyes widened as he admired it. He’d heard of Queen Allura before, but he’d never seen the famous depiction. And what better time to appreciate an intricate painting than when he was waiting for an infamous burglar? At least Lance could see all the details, thanks to Pidge turning on a few lights. The queen’s light gray hair traveled in full waves past her shoulders, and her bright eyes seemed to draw him in. _ Wow, she’s gorgeous. _

The lights flickering overhead brought Lance’s attention back to the present, just in time to hear Hunk say in his ear, “He’s here. Heat signature at the top floor west entrance.”

“Got it,” Lance said. “Notify me of any extreme changes. Pidge: shut down the elevators, lock the doors to the right-hand stairwell, and wait for my signal to lock the rest of them. In the meantime, turn on all the lights in the building.”

“Right!” they replied. 

Lance took off running towards the unlocked stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time to reach the sixth floor. He slammed the door behind him and had Pidge lock the remaining doors. Now there’d be no way for The Robber to get the painting unless . . .

Lance blinked. He realized he didn’t know enough about The Robber’s powers to stop him in his tracks completely. Frustrating prickled along Lance’s skin and he shook his head. _ If―no, _ when _ I capture The Robber, I won’t need to know about his powers anymore. _

A dark blur at the edge of Lance’s vision caught his eye, and he spun around to see the person in question coming at him with full speed. The Robber aimed his foot for Lance’s head, and Lance ducked. He punched towards The Robber’s stomach. The Robber used his forearm to block the punch, then crouched low and kicked out to sweep Lance’s legs out from him. Lance let out a yell as he hit the floor. He rolled out of the way at the last second as the villain tried to bring his foot down on Lance’s head. Lance jumped to his feet and moved back, trying to put some distance between the two. Lance needed to use his pistol, and _ fast _. The Robber was always on the attack, and he seemed to know that his skill level was just good enough to keep Lance on his toes.

When the opportunity presented itself in the form of The Robber rushing low towards him, Lance waited until the last second to jump over the villain, change his pistol into a long, wooden bo staff, and spin it around his waist so he could strike his opponent in the side. The Robber sprawled across the slick floors, a grunt of pain escaping him. Lance, his staff in hand, raced towards him. The anticipation of finally catching him exhilarated Lance, and a grin spread on his face.

“You’re mine!” Lance yelled. He changed his staff back into his pistol, switching the ammo to the paralyzer. Before he could shoot, however, The Robber glowed a bright, yellow light. Lance halted in his tracks and aimed his pistol. He didn’t care what kind of tricks The Robber tried to use. Nothing could stop Lance from shooting.

Nothing except the building shaking so violently that Lance was thrown to the ground. The rumbling sound deafened him, and the tremors kept him stuck to the floor. Lance tried to aim for The Robber even while he was on the ground, but the power abruptly cut out, plunging the two of them into a black void. 

“L―nce!” Pidge’s voice was barely audible over the sound of the building’s movements. “Wh―s hap―ning?!”

Then, just as suddenly as it started, the shaking stopped. Lance took his time getting to his feet, and he kept his stance low to the ground. He didn’t know if the rumbling would start again, and he didn’t care to stick around to find out. Unfortunately his shooting powers wouldn’t work if he couldn’t see his target, so with a rough sigh, he brought out his mini flashlight from his toolbelt. He aimed the light where he remembered The Robber being. A cold rush of panic swept over him.

“He’s gone,” Lance mumbled. Sweat trailed down his temple.

“Wh―t? L...ce you ―d?” Damn. The power outage must’ve affected the radio signal in the area as well. Static accompanied Hunk’s voice as he cut in and out.

The sound of a door opening caught Lance’s attention, and he whipped around to throw the light on The Robber closing the stairwell door behind him. Evidently, the power outage unlocked all the doors too. Fire burning through him, Lance shot into a sprint. Navigating the stairs with only a flashlight slowed him down, however, and by the time Lance got to the third floor he’d lost sight of the villain.

“Damnit,” he breathed. “Robber! I know you’re in here!”

No response. 

“Come out, you coward!” Lance swept the torch all along the area, but all he highlighted were walls and historical paintings. “Let’s finish this, here and now.”

Lance passed by Queen Allura’s painting, but it seemed unharmed. Where was The Robber? Why hadn’t he taken the painting yet? A shuffling sound from the opposite side of the floor echoed across the empty space, immediately followed by a grunt and the sound of someone slumping to the floor. Was that him?

“Help,” a familiar voice croaked. “Help, someone!” 

The Robber had a victim! Lance shifted into a jog, turning around a corner to confront the hostage, only to skid to a stop as his stomach dipped to his feet. There, lying on the floor, rope bound and bruised, was none other than Keith Kogane.

“Keith!” Lance rushed forward and dropped to his knees, yanking off his helmet. “Keith, what the hell happened to you?” Although the black eye was close to healed, the purple splotch on Keith’s jaw looked fresh. Lance’s blood boiled at the thought of someone hurting him. “Did The Robber do this?”

Keith nodded, his movements stiff. “I―I didn’t see him coming.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.” Lance set his flashlight down and got to work undoing Keith’s bonds. The part of his mind that wasn’t on alert for The Robber was too aware of every brush against Keith’s skin, too aware of the sound of Keith’s breathing, just _ too aware _. Lance mentally chastised himself. He had to pay attention to his surroundings.

Keith’s ropes fell off him easily, and Lance couldn’t miss the flash across Keith’s gaze as their eyes met. “Thank you, Lance.”

Lance swallowed. _ Too aware _. “No problem. Are you alright? How did you end up here?”

“I was walking home from work when I heard someone run up behind me. I didn’t have a chance to defend myself, though. He knocked me out, and the next thing I knew I was waking up here.” Keith tried to stand, stumbling a bit, and Lance quickly stood to help him up. “I’m glad you were the one to rescue me, though. Now I know what you do for a living.”

Heat filled Lance’s cheeks. “Um, yeah, I’m the hero Sharp Shooter. I guess we never talked about careers, huh?”

Keith chuckled. “Yeah. But now’s not the time. You’ve got a villain to catch, right?”

Lance nodded. “Let me try and contact my coworkers to get you out of here.” Lance angled away, pressing his finger to his earpiece as he tried to get in touch with his friends. “Hunk? Pidge?” The lights flickered overhead. Once, twice. They cut out again. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Through the constant static, Pidge’s voice ebbed in and out. “L―ce! How . . . things?”

“Pidge! Can you hear me?”

“Yes! I think I’m . . . ―onnection back up!”

“Uh, sure.” Lance shook his head. “Anyway, I’ve got a civilian here that needs to be protected. I don’t know if The Robber has anyone else, but we might need to call in reinforcements.”

“Lance?” Hunk said.

“What is it?”

The noise tore at Hunk’s words. “There’s no one . . . ―uilding.”

Lance frowned. “What was that?”

“I said, th― . . . ―ing!” Hunk’s voice was still choppy with interference.

“Damnit, Hunk, I can’t hear you!”

Then, Hunk’s voice clear as day. “Lance, there’s no one else in the building! It’s just you two!”

For a second Lance didn’t know how to react. His mind blanked. _ That doesn’t make sense, how could there be only two of us? The Robber’s here, I’m here, Keith’s here, and possibly more hostages. So there’re at least three people . . . _

Then a thought occurred to Lance. A scary thought. A thought he didn’t want to entertain, a thought Lance hadn’t imagined he’d ever _ have _ to entertain. Lance glanced at Keith, gave him a quick smile, and turned his back to him. The lights flickered overhead.

“Hunk, are you sure?” Lance whispered. “Tell me you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, Lance. No one else has entered the building since we got here, and there’re only two heat signatures.”

A wave of dread plunged Lance into a pool of freezing water. Too many things were adding up in his head. Keith limping at the coffee shop, his unexplained injuries, the familiar feeling Lance got when he stood near him. The space around Lance turned to molasses, slowing down his movements as he turned around to face Keith again. The lights flickered again, and stayed on. Instead of Keith’s usual playful smirk, a cold smile stood in its place. Was Keith actually . . . ? “Keith?”

Keith shook his head. “Sorry, Lance. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out.”

“Y-you’re The Robber?” His chest was too tight, his vision too blurry, his heart too loud.

Regret skipped over Keith’s features before they hardened. “It’s nothing personal, Lance. It’s just the way it is.”

“You bastard!” Lance drew his pistol and aimed to fire, but Kogane was faster. The ball he threw towards Lance socked him in the gut, breaking on contact to expand into one of Kogane’s weighted nets. Electricity sparked along the net’s rope, causing Lance to scream as pain burned through him. He collapsed on the floor, the net delivering smaller aftershocks to him over and over.

Through Lance’s hazy vision he could see Kogane walk over and crouch down next to him. “I truly am sorry, Lance. I actually liked you.”

“I’ll . . . n-never let you . . . get away,” Lance grit out, his breathing hitching in his throat.

Kogane gave him a brief, sad smile before standing up and leaving Lance’s line of sight. Lance heard the sound of him teleporting to remove the painting from its enclosure, before one final flash of light signaled his disappearance.

* * *

Lance must have blacked out for a bit, ‘cuz when he opened his eyes he could see Hunk and Pidge leaning over him, and he was in the back of the van. The two of them expressed relief at Lance’s consciousness, and Lance struggled to sit up.

“Uggghh,” he groaned. He leaned his head forward in his hands.

“We heard the whole thing,” Hunk said, his voice soft. “Sorry, buddy.”

“That was the guy you were texting with?” Pidge asked.

Lance nodded. “I can’t believe I didn’t know he was The Robber.”

Pidge patted him on the back. “Hey, there’s no way you could have known before. At least you know now!”

“Yeah!” Hunk agreed. “Plus there’s some good to come out of this! We know The Robber’s identity!” Hunk glanced away at Lance’s glare. “Sorry.”

“Let’s just head back to the precinct,” Lance mumbled. “I wanna’ go home and sleep so I can forget this ever happened.”

Pidge winced. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”

Lance glanced at them. “Why?”

“He left this at the scene.” They handed Lance a yellow post-it note with red handwriting scrawled on it. Lance snatched it up and scanned it, his face reddening in a wash of anger and shame.

_ I hope you’ll keep your promise to never let me get away. Sometimes the chase is just as fun as the reward ;) _

_ Nice to meet you, Sharp Shooter. Let’s get along, shall we? _

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAAAAA HERE IS PART 3 FINALLY ADLGHAIGHA!!! also follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystrumpet98) where I post anime and klance and updates about chapters and stuff! anyway enjoy!


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